


Everybody (Do The Propaganda)

by notalone91



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Gen, I couldn't help myself, M/M, Richie Tozier's Stand Up Act, The Losers Club Are Good Friends (IT), short and sweet, this shirt is for real available on amazon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25720225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalone91/pseuds/notalone91
Summary: Bill has come up with the most hysterical way to be a good friend... or so he thinks.  Eddie's not so sure, considering that he's the one who has to deal with the business end of his husband's career.  (He's not a hard sell, though.)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	Everybody (Do The Propaganda)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Richie Tozier '20 T Shirt](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/661573) by Amazon Seller Lamnix. 



Bill had no sooner pressed submit on the design and laughed as he pressed the button to purchase 8 of the t-shirt. Richie Tozier '20. He was thrilled with the outcome and positively giddy at the thought of his friends receiving their gifts. Ever since Richie had engaged in a Twitter beef with Kanye, Kelly Conway, and the President, the idea had been stuck in his head and he had to see it through. In his mind's eye, the group would all wear them to his next show and then toss one onstage at him during a break.

However, his mind's eye was blind to the fact that Richie’s husband-cum-interim-but-probably-permanent-manager got a Google alert every time his husband's name was used. Looking away from his computer and down to his phone, his eyes narrowed. "Stan, I'm gonna have to call you back. We have a funeral to plan."

"A funer-" he started, furrowing his brow. It didn't matter because Eddie was gone.

Pressing the 3rd speed dial on his phone, he was connected to Bill in a flash. "Hey, Eds. Funny you should call-"

"If he ends up in the oval office because of some stupid prank, I'm going to hang you by your toes from the top of the Washington monument, William Alexander Denbrough, and I will get away with it because, somehow,” he rested his head on his palm and groaned, “Somehow, in your pinnacle of horror cliffhangers, you will have made Richie Tozier president and I will have a damn country to run!" When he paused for a breath, Bill's snickering was suddenly audible. "This is not funny! Do you remember what happened last time? We're not fourteen anymore and this is not a mock election for student council! We're adults and between the pair of you and Ben and Bev, you have enough followers to conceivably make a go of it and this cannot happen, Bill!" He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. "You know I'm gonna hear about this forever, right?"

Bill sighed and shook his head. "You know it's not that bad, right?"

"You know you're an asshole, right?" He sniped through the phone with no real bite. 

"You know you have to wear one to his the show, right?" Bill countered.

That was the image that broke Eddie. He barked a laugh. "Yeah, I know. Love you, Big Bill."

"You too, Eddie. See you next weekend," he said, finally starting to gather himself. That is until his phone lit up again with a picture of Stan. He took a deep breath and pressed the button to accept but was greeted, instead, by the banshee-like yell that signaled to the Losers that they had done something so truly hysterical that Stan was nearing aneurysm territory. He was so ready for the payoff.

When Richie strode out onto the stage amidst the announcer's booming voice, ready to take on his new special, Bev gasped, catching a glimpse of the black t-shirt with Richie Tozier ‘20 gleaming across the chest in red and white as it peeked out beneath his blazer. She slapped Mike’s knee and leaned forward to look past him at Bill. Bill looked absolutely stunned. He glanced over at the man beside him accusatorily. 

“I swear, Bill, I didn’t,” Eddie whispered, shaking his head. Of course, Richie had bought himself one. He watched, dumbstruck as Richie did his trademark walk, but tried really hard not to notice that his husband, bless him, seemed to forget that he’d recently bulked up quite a bit in the chest and shoulders. Finally, he leaned to his friend and whispered, “I cleared the notification and everything. The asshole must have searched his own name.”

Eddie shook his head. He should have known. It was too good for Richie to pass up.

Having gone to great lengths to avoid revealing his surprise, Richie flicked off his jacket with an excited "How're we all doing tonight?" Eddie’s nervous energy flowed through him and into the hand he'd clasped with Stan who gripped right back. It wasn’t Richie’s first rodeo. Hell, it wasn’t Eddie’s either, but somehow, he couldn’t help but be at least a little nervous about his live wire.

"Welcome to the Trashmouth National Convention. I'm proud to be your nominee this year," he boasted. The crowd gave a confused laugh. "Okay, seriously, which one of you dipshits made this?" He pointed up to the balcony. His fans always had ridiculous merch available online with quotes from his shows. This was new. He pulled the mic from the stand and strolled forward. "Because, I hate to be the one to tell you, it's the worst idea I'm officially obsessed with." He laughed and crossed his arms casually, almost thoughtfully. "I've already got my platform. It's really a 3 part system..."

As he spoke, his friends were almost floored. Of course, it was funny. He's Richie, that's what he does. But it makes sense. Even Mike, who stands just about as far to the opposite of Richie, personality-wise, is hard-pressed to find a flaw.

"Of course, my main platform is reclaiming the name of Richard in politics." He scowled and gave a patented double peace sign. When the grown-up portion of his audience laughed, he pawed them off playfully.

That's when he sees it.

That's when he sees that the entire front row was dressed in identical Richie Tozier '20 campaign shirts and the Trashmouth facade faded away into unrelenting laughter. "Okay, which one of you assholes did this," he coughed between peals. He pointed at Bev accusatorily. She threw her hands in the air, insisting innocence.

Bill called out above the howls of laughter and pointed to himself because he knew just as well as Richie that half of his audience comes in the hope that the Losers will be there and the comedy will delve into personal rhetoric and ridiculous stories about clowns and Paul Bunyan and knife-wielding bullies that exactly no one believes but they're so over the top that they can't help but laugh. Richie doubled over clapping and stomping his feet, his entire act disregarded. Moving to toss the shirt onstage, Bill fumbled and passed it to Ben who flung it effortlessly.

"The talent is supposed to be the one with the T-shirt cannon, Ben," Richie laughed as the shirt zoomed past him, having put no effort into catching it. He darted upstage to retrieve it and unfurled it, identical to his own and his friends. "You know, Bill, I was gonna make you my Vice President, but I'm not too keen on fragging, jerk. Guess it'll have to be Stan."

In tandem, Eddie and Stan folded their arms and shook their heads, sending him off on another bout of riotous laughter. "Okay, he might be more likely than Bill." He loosened his imaginary collar and pulled a face before returning to his routine. If there was one thing of which he was sure, it was that his own personal cabinet could and would never, ever put him under friendly fire.

...

Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> I was doing my bi weekly check to see if the Reddie funkos are a more reasonable price on Amazon and came across a t-shirt and immediately was inspired.


End file.
